A Reflection

For… pretty much all my life, I’ve wondered what this feeling inside of me is.

Of wanting to push something out the way.

(That’s the most frequent version of the feeling, though it can quickly develop into wanting to punch or, plain, start a fight at times. A verbal one, a loud one.)

The thing about this feeling is that it sets incredible amounts of energy free in of me. It makes me want to move mountains.

And so I did a little reflecting to get at the Why.

Q: When do I feel this aggression-like feeling bubble up in me?

A: When I feel like thoughts or words or deeds are becoming walls. Not just around me, but around other people, too. When freedom is being compromised, the freedom to be.


So, in other words, when freedom is being compromised, an incredible injustice is being committed, of which the manifestation is a loss of authenticity and autonomy in myself or in another person.

And that seems to be the root of my allergic reaction, my outburst of passion. An all-consuming passion.

My greatest source of energy and reason for exhaustion at the same time.

Mmh. So it’s not just a pubertal mood, is it. More like an inherent disgust for unjust and fake authorities.

I guess I’m gonna keep pushing. And fighting. Freedom-fighting I guess they call it.